


Make your Mark

by theebolaqueen



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Begging, Book: Breaking Dawn, Bruises, Choking, F/M, Honeymoon, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rough Sex, Smut, Twilight Renaissance, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:07:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29144931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theebolaqueen/pseuds/theebolaqueen
Summary: What if Bella woke up on their honeymoon and liked the bruises Edward left on her skin?
Relationships: Edward Cullen/Bella Swan
Comments: 3
Kudos: 54





	Make your Mark

**Author's Note:**

> I always thought the bruises were sexy.

Edward stretched my arm out lightly, his lips pressed together in a tight line.

I looked down. At first, I couldn’t make sense of what I saw. My skin was dusted with a thousand tiny white feathers. Beneath the downy cover, I saw pattern of purple and blue splotches. I followed the marks up my arm with my eyes. Edward, moving with deliberate care, laid his hand on my arm and matched his fingers to a group of splotches there.

“Oh,” I breathed as the pieces came together. My skin was covered in bruises. I thought back to the night before, trying to remember a moment of pain or discomfort, but there was nothing. I only remembered wishing he would hold me closer, and being delighted when he had.

“I’m so sorry, Bella,” he breathed and his velvety voice was laced with pain. “I knew better. I should never ever have allowed myself to hurt you.”

His words should have upset me. I should have been upset. But I looked down at my arm, his fingers were still placed carefully over the hand-shaped bruise there, and I did not feel angry.

I stretched slowly, taking stock of how the movement in my joints and muscles. There was a little soreness, but no pain. It felt a little like the day after a work out. Like one of the times I’d gone with Renee to a weight lifting class during her fitness kick—sixty five lunges holding ten pound weights, I hadn’t been able to walk the next day—but this was no where near as painful.

It felt nice somehow. I stared at the hand that had marked my skin in the night and remembered how he’d held me. He’d been possessive; he’d taken the lead and I’d followed him blissfully, more than happy to offer up my control. I pushed myself up on one elbow and examined my other arm, strangely pleased to see more of the same bruising.

The corner of my lips began to turn upward into a smile.

Edward stopped. I realized he’d continued apologizing while I thought. My expression caught him off guard.

“Bella, are you smiling?” He sounded appalled.

I bit my lip, afraid to look up at him, and slid off the side of the bed. He followed my into the bathroom, his beautiful face severe. There was a tall mirror there beside the closet and I made my way to it without meeting Edward’s gaze. He stood behind me, his reflection immaculate despite his self loathing, and I gasped.

My lips were swollen and there was a faint purple blossoming over my right cheekbone. The hand shaped bruises traveled up my arms, across my shoulders, and down the side of my rib cage. There were even a few traces on the outside of my thighs.

A rush of heat flooded my face as I remembered how his hands had felt on my body.

“Bella,” he moaned, “please say something.” The perfect reflection of Edward reached out as if to hold my shoulder and turn me around, but he hesitated, afraid to touch me again.

I looked down, this time out of embarrassment, and turned towards him. I tried to fight the smile that still pulled at my lips, but I couldn’t quite manage it.

Edward was hurting. He was upset. I needed to reassure him, to explain to him that his fears were completely unfounded. But how could I tell him how I felt without sounding insane? I felt insane.

“Edward,” I murmured, and felt another blush color my cheeks.

He hung his head, ashamed.

“No, Edward,” I hurried to assure him and wrapped my arms around his cold waist. “Don’t be upset. Please don’t be upset. I’m not mad.”

He flinched away from me but I held tight, hiding my face in his chest.

“Bella,” he breathed and I felt the movement as he shook his head back and forth.

I thought about the bruises, I couldn’t seem to tear my mind away from them if I was being honest with myself. I thought about the physical marks his hands had left on my skin. It was like he was still there, still grasping me tight. Even the soreness in my muscles only reminded me of how we’d fit together, two puzzle pieces meant for each other. Satisfaction surged through me and a triumphant laugh bubbled out from somewhere in my chest.

Edward pulled away then, shocked.

“You’re laughing?” he accused.

“I'm sorry, Edward,” I couldn’t stop my lips from twisting into a smile this time. “I know I shouldn’t laugh. I know I should be upset, but I’m just so happy!”

His eyes widened and then his brows knit together in concern.

I would have to find a way to explain. I bit my lip as another wave of embarrassment sent butterflies through my stomach. Knowing I wouldn’t be able to look at his face, I took his hand and pulled him gently back to the bedroom. He let me tow him along, bewildered and miserable.

I pushed him down on the bed and then crawled up next to him, curling into his side. He didn’t put his arms around me and I sighed.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he begged.

I exhaled and then scrunched my nose as I tried to find the right words. There were no right words. I would have to go with the honest words.

“I like them,” I said, my voice sounded small even to myself.

Edward didn’t answer. I might as well have been conversing with a statue. I decided to continue.

“I know you’re upset. You think you’ve hurt me. But you haven’t, Edward,” the words tumbled out of me in a rush. “I’m a little sore, but I like that too. Every time I move it reminds me of how wonderful last night was.” My face reddened but I couldn’t look at him. “And I know you would never want to hurt me, and it’s probably upsetting to you to see the bruises on my skin—“

A low moan escaped his lips, but I kept going.

“But bruises aren’t any kind of real damage, Edward.” I tucked my face into his arm. “But even if they were, I like them. I like seeing the evidence of you on my skin. It’s like…” I searched for the words, “it’s like a physical sign of how completely you own me. Of how completely I’m yours.”

That would have to do. I didn’t know if I could explain it any better. I didn’t know if there really was anything to explain. I couldn’t justify the way I felt, I just knew it felt right.

He was still for a long time. I resolved that he would be the one to break the silence. But, a little afraid, I did peak up to look at his face.

His golden eyes blazed as they took in my expression, but I didn’t look away, sheepish though I felt. His gaze did strange things to my body, my heart thudded loudly in my ears and electricity zinged through my fingertips. Conflict raged clearly in his eyes, but he didn’t speak. And, slowly, I watched the conflict soften into something else. Thoughtfulness?

He looked up at the white gossamer above the bed, his jaw still tight with tension. I wanted to give him the time he needed to think. Maybe it was finally dawning on him that the woman he’d married wasn’t entirely sane. I had married a vampire, after all. Where was the sanity in that?

I wanted to give him time to think, to consider what I’d said, to formulate a response, but the harsh line of his jaw distracted me. Sunlight filtered in through the white drapery and his skin glowed softly in the indirect light. His chest was so smooth beneath my sensitive fingers. My breathing came faster as I remembered how his body had felt against mine. The weight of him had crushed me to the bed. I’d struggled to breathe, but exalted in the inescapable pressure of him. He’d held both my arms above my head with just one of his hands, his lips growling at the skin of my throat.

I felt the soreness in my muscles as I moved now, and the feeling made me brave. I was covered in _his_ bruises. They were _his_ marks on my skin. I climbed on top of him, straddling his waist, and bent to kiss his jaw.

He was too surprised to stop me, and I made use of his stillness to knot my fingers in his hair as I kissed along the smooth skin of his neck.

“Bella,” he breathed and it was a denial. I ignored him, trailing my lips across his collarbone. He inhaled sharply, but otherwise held perfectly still as I shifted my weight on top of him to better kiss his marble chest.

I slid my hands from his hair to the perfect skin of his neck. It was a silly gesture, with his being so much stronger than me, but I still thrilled with satisfaction as I held him down, my hand curved around his throat.

Holding myself up with my other hand, I bent carefully to press my lips against his nipple. His body jolted like he’d been electrocuted, but he lapsed back immediately into stillness. I smiled to myself and let my tongue skim lightly across the skin of his chest. I couldn’t mark his flawless skin, but he was still mine. My teeth grazed across his nipple, raised and hard now. I felt the low moan in his throat through the hand that was still at his neck. But the sound seemed to also vibrate through me, singing through my bones and shaking loose something deep in my stomach.

I gasped a little in response, and he unfroze then, pulling my lips towards his. I kissed him desperately, inhaling his sweet breath as his hands locked around my face. My body ached for him, ached to be closer still. My hips ground against his body, moving without my conscious direction, and his legs pushed up from the bed to meet me.

His tongue traced a cool line across my bottom lip and, without thinking, I caught the tip of his tongue between my teeth. His body went still with surprise and I laughed, holding him captive.

He moved us so quickly it took my mind a moment to catch up. One second I was on top of him, and the next I was stretched out below him on the bed. His hands held my wrists to either side of my head, and his teeth were at my throat. His cool breath beat against my skin and I shivered in pleasure.

“I’m curious,” he murmured into my ear, raising goosebumps on my neck.

“About?” I tried to imitate his disinterested tone.

“Even if it were true that you somehow like the bruises, why would that embarrass you?” As he spoke, he used his knee to spread my legs apart. I gasped and wriggled against his iron grip, unable to move an inch.

“I don’t know,” I shook my head, feeling the burn creep into my cheeks again.

“I think you do,” he crooned and pressed his knee between my legs. My hips bucked forward, pushing into his touch.

“I…” I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. “I told you, I like having your hands on my skin…”

He rubbed his knee slowly between my legs and I moaned. My hands clenched into fists and I threw my head back against the pillow.

“Just my hands?” he asked. His golden eyes sparkled as he leaned closer, he knee working up to a rhythm against my core. I couldn’t think straight, couldn’t pay attention to his words. I pulled desperately against his grip, longing to throw my arms around him, to wrap my fingers in his hair, to pull him closer.

“Please,” I moaned and met his gaze.

“Please, what?” he asked innocently.

My head swam. This was so different from how it had been last night. Last night he’d been cautious and gentle. His eyes had burned with warm affection. The look in his eyes now was…mischievous?

“Please!” I begged, moving my hips in time with him, my entire body straining for more.

“Bella,” he chided and the sound of my name on his lips sent a thrill through me, “I can’t read your mind. If you want something, you’ll have to tell me.”

I huffed in exasperation and struggled harder against his grip. My entire body burned and I was sure my face was bright red. He was going to make me say it? Could I bear to be that explicit out loud? I didn’t think so.

“Edward,” I shook my head. My face was hot and I could feel my heartbeat speeding faster. The sound of it thudded loudly in my ears.

“You want me to own you?” his voice was a caress. “You want to belong to me?”

I nodded and bit my lip.

He pulled my arms over my head and gathered both my hands together in one of his. His free hand trailed down my arm, down the bridge of my nose, across my lips, and over my chin. He arched one perfect eyebrow, a silent question, and let his hand come to rest at the base of my throat. My breathing was too fast, too heavy. I raised my chin the smallest fraction, an answer.

His fingers curved around my neck. My eyes rolled back a little and I sighed. He was gentle at first, testing his strength, gauging my reaction. And then, apparently satisfied with both, his hand locked around my throat. I gasped, eyes wide, and my body arched into his. My pulse thudded against his skin, and I fought for air.

“Tell me what you want,” he purred and his fingers tightened around my throat. His knee circled faster between my legs.

I tried to shake my head in denial, but his lips cause mine and held them still.

“Tell me,” he said as my breathing came faster. My hips rocked against him with greater urgency and I writhed under him.

“I can’t!” I panted.

“Alright then,” he smiled my favorite crooked smile. In the same moment, he released his hold on my throat and pushed himself up on his elbows away from my body.

“No!” I wailed, the need for him swelling in me was nearly painful.

He chuckled, a low and throaty sound. I thrashed against his hold on my wrists. There was no point, his hold on me was absolute.

“Edward,” I pleaded and tried to press my body against his. He held himself just out of reach. I wailed again.

“This is surprisingly enjoyable,” he said with a dazzling smile. “I had no idea I could bring you to this.” He dipped his face towards mine and I reached uo to kiss him. He stopped just inches away from where I could reach, his liquid topaz eyes alight with mirth.

“Please,” I begged, fighting against his iron hold.

“Please what, Bella?” he crooned.

Chagrin washed through me and I realized I wasn’t going to win this fight. Because it was a fight, a battle of wills. Only, his self control was so much better than mine. I didn’t have a prayer.

“Please…” I hesitated, humiliation making it impossible to shape the words.

He saw the weakness in my eyes and leaned in to touch his lips to the corner of my mouth. “Yes?”

My head swam with the sweetness of his breath and I gave up. Who needed dignity anyway?

“Please fuck me, Edward,” the words burned on their way past my lips.

His eyes widened and his answering grin took my breath away.

“As you wish,” he laughed, exultant, and released my wrists. I kissed him greedily the moment he was close enough, and his hands wrapped around the small of my back, crushing my body against his.

Edward’s breathing was as ragged as mine as he kissed his way along my jaw. He rolled us to the side, taking me by surprise, and ran his cool hand from his waist to my calf. I laughed in shock when he threw my leg over his shoulder. He kissed the skin at my knee, raising goosebumps with his cold lips, and then kissed his way up my thigh.

My eyelids fluttered closed and my back arched towards his lips.

“So wet, Bella?” he teased, “I didn’t realize you enjoyed humiliation.”

My entire body flushed a deep scarlet and his answering laugh was ecstatic.

I was relieved when he finally gave in, pushing himself inside of me in a single thrust. He was cold and hard, like glass, but we fit exactly right.

“Edward,” I moaned his name, finally content.

His eyes grew bright, excited by the sound of his name on my lips. He slide back and then pushed even deeper inside me than before, adjusting our angles with care.

I threw my arm over my face and exhaled. My body thrummed with a deep satisfaction. This wasn’t the frenzied building tension I’d felt before. This didn’t feel like the ramp up to an explosion. More than pleasure, each time he thrust inside me was bliss. Relief. As though I had been in pain before and didn’t realize until it was gone.

I sighed his name, twisting my fingers in his hair.

His honey eyes grew unfocused as he picked up speed. It was almost too much for me, on the very brink of pain.

“Bella,” he moaned, sending another wave of electricity through my body.

He growled suddenly, pounding into me with a desperate sort of frenzy. The intensity of his growl frightened me, but the fear only heightened the excitement I felt.

He buried his face against my neck, tangling in my hair, and I clutched his broad shoulders as close as I could.

His teeth, razor sharp and venomous, were inches away from my throat. My pulse drummed erratically through my veins, an invitation. A different kind of begging.

Edward reached above me, past me, and grasped onto the wooden headboard with both hands. He used the extra leverage to drive deeper still, shoving into the mass of pillows again and again.

There was a loud crack as the headboard gave way, splintering under his hands. He cried out, his silky voice a song, and collapsed against me with a sigh.

His massive weight pressed me into the mattress, making it hard to breathe, but I didn’t care. I wrapped my arms around his head which was still buried in my hair. I held him as our breathing slowed, inhaling the scent of him.

It was a long time before he looked up at me, and when he did, his smile was rueful.

“I like the bruises too.”


End file.
